


Cursed Nights

by driver_picks_the_music_1967



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Curses, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:33:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3880645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driver_picks_the_music_1967/pseuds/driver_picks_the_music_1967
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets cursed by a witch and can only be cured by true love. Castiel ends up being the only one who can help cure Dean and it turns into much more than they both could have hoped for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cursed Nights

Ever since they had gotten back from the case, Dean Winchester hadn’t felt like himself. I mean he barely had any injuries,had pretty much gotten a clean getaway. It was just something inside him that felt really wrong. And he couldn’t get those damn words out of his head. They just kept circling his brain like vultures circling some dead animal. “You’ve been cursed, Dean Winchester. And only the one you truly love can break it.” Those words tormented him and haunted him, feeling like they had been ripped straight from a morbid fairytale. The witch had uttered the words to him in a hoarse whisper as she snaked her bony fingers across his jaw. He had felt it then. The pull of something on his bones, through his blood, in his soul. He kept telling himself that he was fine, but that feeling just wouldn’t go away. That feeling that he was missing something. That a chunk of his heart had been ripped out when that witch cast the curse. Even after Sam smoked the hell out of her, the feeling remained. Of course, he hadn’t told Sam, or even Cas for that matter about the so-called curse. There was one reason for that, go-figure, one reason that Dean could barely even admit to himself. The one person he truly loved would surely never love him back. Castiel was the angel that dragged him from hell, raising him from perdition, and saving his ass so many times, he had lost count. But somewhere within those countless battles and close-calls Dean had fallen for the angel that had risked everything for him. But Castiel could never know Dean’s feelings. It would ruin everything. So Dean stayed silent. Bottling up his feelings and stowing himself away in his room, reading up on everything he could to try to cure this “curse” on his own. Days droned on and the pull within his bones grew even stronger each day. It wasn’t until Cas came to stay for a few days that things began to turn around. 

“Dean.” Castiel’s gruff voice carried easily through the silent air in the kitchen.  
Dean sat at the kitchen table, shuffling through some papers he had printed off about witches and some other random information and lore that related to curses and the like.  
“What’s up, Cas?” Dean’s tone was impatient. He didn’t look up from the words he was scanning off the various pages.  
“You look stressed. I sense something is wrong. Are you alright?” Cas’ tone was calm, methodical as he looked over Dean with that familiar squinty-eyed gaze he usually wore when he was contemplating something foreign to him.  
“Fine, Cas.” Dean’s tone remained the same, he was still focusing on the papers before him.  
Castiel took a seat across from Dean, settling easily as the chair creaked beneath him. Cas reached his hand out and placed it gently over Dean’s, offering him comfort the best way he knew how.  
It was in that soft touch that Dean felt the first feeling of relief since that witch had cursed him. He looked up then, breaking his gaze with the black printed words of the pages that taunted his obliviousness to the problem at hand. Castiel’s touch had loosened the pull from within, calmed him, made him feel better. He looked up and met Castiel’s blue-eyed gaze and the hard lines of his features softened as he smiled at Dean’s sudden attention to his presence.  
“You can tell me anything, you know that.” Castiel searched Dean’s face with those brilliant blue eyes, but Dean only swallowed thickly and pulled his hand from Castiel’s touch, practically wincing at the return of the pull within him.  
“I’m okay. Just got a new case to focus on, that’s all.” Dean cracked a fake smile and returned his attention to the pages beneath him.  
“Okay.” Castiel was hesitant, but he stood from his seat and walked to some other side of the bunker, leaving Dean alone as he continued reading, thinking, and worrying. 

The day soon turned into night, the sunset illuminating the bunker in brilliant colors of yellow and orange as it settled and the moon took over the night sky. Dean’s mind was clouded with worry and exhaustion as he padded around the bunker. He locked up each door, checking and re-checking each entrance as he ran over the information in his mind and went over each bit of information he had discovered about curses. The bunker’s windows gave way to millions of tiny, bright stars that dotted the sky, though nothing about the sight calmed Dean. The feeling within his soul had grown worse by the second ever since that moment he had with Castiel earlier that day. Though Dean didn’t want to admit it even to himself. He walked down yet another shadowed hallway, stopping abruptly when he came upon a familiar shadowed figure that was watching him from a distance.  
“Dean. You should sleep.” The voice held a sense of concern as Dean looked up to the soft blue-eyed gaze.  
“Cas, I’m fine.” Dean lied through his teeth as he stopped walking and Castiel approached him, his soft gaze looking up to Dean’s.  
“I know you aren’t.” And before Dean could refute Castiel’s concern again, Castiel had pulled Dean into a warm hug.  
At first Dean tensed up, but Castiel’s full embrace had made the pull in Dean’s bones disappear almost instantly. He melted as Castiel’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. Dean buried his face in Castiel’s shoulder, breathing in the angel’s faint scent of roses and cheap clothing. His thin trenchcoat was soft and worn against Dean’s cheek. Suddenly, Dean became aware of Castiel’s touch, his callused hands placed gently and warm on Dean’s back, his legs pressed against Dean’s, his chest against Dean’s. Dean breathed softly, concentrating on the feel of Castiel’s heartbeat against his chest. Dean breathed deeply as Castiel held him close, bringing him into his chest, holding him, supporting him, making Dean feel whole and alive for the first time since the witch hunt. He let Castiel hold him for as long as he needed, as long as it took to make him feel okay.  
It would have been a lie if Dean had said he didn't like being held like this by the angel, but he wasn't going to say that out loud.

Castiel moved slightly, bringing his lips next to Dean's ear and he whispered softly, "I know what that witch said to you."  
Dean's heart clenched within his chest. This was it. His stomach felt like it had been tied in knots. The sudden feeling made him pull away from Cas, but as he did so, that empty feeling returned and the pain within his soul became almost unbearable. He doubled over, catching himself as Cas watched him with concern.  
"Dean. I can help you." Castiel was stern now, reaching out to for Dean to take his hand.  
"Cas, I don't think you can. She said the person has to love me back." Dean's voice was harbored by pain. "The person has to love me. And they don't. They-"  
Dean's anguish was cut off by the pressure of Castiel's mouth on his. The shock of the sudden embrace disappeared as Dean calmed and relief pooled through his veins and filled the cracks in his heart and the crevices in his soul.  
Castiel's arms had snaked around Dean's waist as Dean came to and responded to Castiel's kiss, moving his lips against Castiel’s and entwining his fingers in Castiel's ruffled hair.  
Dean pulled away after a very long moment, taking a deep breath as he looked into Castiel's deep blue eyes.  
"You love me?" Dean's voice was shaky, as if he still held doubt even after Castiel had just kissed him.  
Castiel only smiled, the emotion lighting up his face and he searched Dean's green eyes.  
"I love you." The words were like a whisper, a promise shared between only them in the darkness of the quiet hallway.  
And then Dean was kissing Castiel this time. The feeling of love and hope was flooding his veins, replacing all the fear and regret he had built up these last several days.  
He felt good, strong, and for once, of all things, happy.  
The night continued around them, darkness and shadows shifting through the night, the stars and the moon oblivious to the love story being written within the dark halls of the Winchesters’ bunker. The love story of a man raised from perdition by his angel and an angel who left everything behind to save that one man. The two of them continued exploring each other, talking, kissing, but never breaking apart, not wanting the perfect moments of this night to end sooner than it needed to.


End file.
